


Sick Day

by WayWardWonderer



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Android, Bonding, Cold, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Whump, ConnorSicFic, Dizziness, Father-Son Relationship, Fever, Flu, Friendship, Gen, Infection, Medicine, Nausea, Sicfic, Sick Connor, Trust, Virus, Vomit, Weird, deviant, error, glitch - Freeform, ill, puke, sick, stubborn patient, throwing up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-07-02 17:26:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15801204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WayWardWonderer/pseuds/WayWardWonderer
Summary: Despite being an android Connor manages to get sick with a type of flu while at work. Fortunately Hank has the patience and experience to deal with such matters, even if they are pretty darn unusual.[(*Father/Son relationship) originally featured in the "Accident Prone" series]





	Sick Day

Connor was hunched over his desk with his soulful brown eyes staring at his terminal screen though they remained unfocused and glassy as he tried and failed to read through the files presented to him. Feeling unusually tired, uncomfortably warm and wincing at a persistent dull ache in his artificial stomach Connor found himself far too distracted to function properly. Performing a self-diagnostic from where he sat Connor closed his eyes and patiently waited for the program to finish its run, but the results came back inconclusive.

With his L.E.D. slowly cycling yellow in color rather than its healthier blue Connor knew it was only a matter of time before Hank, or anyone else for that matter, noticed that the deviant android wasn't quite himself. Connor stood up from his seat and immediately braced himself upright against his desk as he suddenly felt very dizzy and swayed awkwardly on his feet.

Hank, sitting at his own desk at the opposite side of Connor's desk, watched with a furrowed brow as the deviant android discreetly regained his balance and stared at his own legs as if trying to understand why he was suddenly graceless in his motions.

"Something wrong?" Hank asked casually and in a low tone of voice as to not draw unwanted attention from the rest of the bullpen.

"I am... unsure." Connor straightened his posture and put his hand to the side of his head as if in pain. A weak cough erupted from his lips as he cleared his throat and took a deep breath to keep his ventilation biocomponents functioning properly. As the reaction caught Connor off guard his face blushed a pale blue to acknowledge his needless embarrassment "...That was unexpected, I apologize."

"Did you seriously just _cough_? That seems pretty weird for an android."

"Coughing for androids can be-" Another cough stole his voice and made him wince a little in response.

"Now I know something's up. Did you run your self check program thingy?"

"Yes, however my self-diagnostic program was inconclusive. I believe I should see the precinct technician and have a second scan performed. My systems are currently operating at unusual levels."

"Want me to go with you? You sound pretty rough."

"No," Connor stated somewhat confidently as he turned to walk away from his desk and to the elevator down the corridor. He subtly moved his hand from the side of his head and over his artificial stomach as he walked. "I will manage alone just fine, thank you for you concern."

"Alright. Whatever you say, kid."

Using his hand along the wall to guide himself as he walked Connor made his way slowly, clumsily to the elevator and pressed the call button on the electronic panel. It didn't take long for the doors to open and for the deviant android to step inside as the lone occupant of the lift. As soon as he was out of sight of his fellow officers, especially Hank, the unstable deviant android leaned his back against the corner of the elevator car and slipped to the floor as dizziness overwhelmed him, and the ache in his artificial stomach increased to a new level of discomfort he couldn't describe.

Managing to gain enough control over his senses to cybernetically select the correct floor Connor sat as still as possible as the elevator ascended quickly and stifled another weak cough. The sudden motion of the elevator moving and then stopping made both Connor's head and stomach turn. Fighting the urge to slip into rest mode Connor pulled himself back up to his feet and prepared to exit the elevator as soon as the doors slid open.

Fortunately for Connor no one else was around when he stepped out of the elevator and onto the designated second floor of the precinct. Continuing to use his hand along the wall to guide himself down the corridor Connor located the dispensary, the android equivalent to an infirmary, where the lone technician was currently filing paperwork for the evening at his own terminal.

Knocking on the opened door twice Connor stumbled into the dispensary and stood as idle as possible as he addressed the technician from afar. "Joel, do you have a moment to spare?"

"Connor, is there something wrong?" Joel asked as he stopped typing and walked over to meet the deviant android in the doorway of the room. The first thing Joel noted was Connor's L.E.D. flashing yellow instead of blue, then noticed that Connor's eyes seemed glazed over and distant. "Feeling unwell?"

"I'm experiencing unusual activity in my system that my self-diagnostic program can't properly identify. I was hoping you could identify and possibly correct the problem."

"Why don't you lay down?" Joel stated casually as he watched Connor's reactions carefully. "I'll see what I can do for you."

Connor turned his head to look at the vacant exam table against the wall in the middle of the room and felt his head swim as another dizzy spell suddenly washed over him.

"Dizzy?" Joel inquired knowingly as he gauged Connor's behavior closely.

"Yes. I have periodically suffered from bouts of unexplained syncope." Connor admitted with a weak cough as he slowly made his way over to the table and proceeded to lay down flat on his back just as slowly as he walked. Laying flat helped end the dizziness but he still felt terrible. "I am also experiencing a sporadic cough."

"Is your gyroscope malfunctioning?" Keenly observing Connor's discomfort as he followed after the deviant android Joel began putting together the pieces of the puzzle as he stood beside the exam table. "Does it need to be recalibrated?"

"I do not know."

"Alright, let's take a look." Joel peeled back Connor's gray suit jacket as he very gently placed his hand flat over Connor's lower abdomen. The light touch was enough to cause Connor to visibly flinch as Joel had already located the point of physical discomfort that Connor had been suffering in silence. "Does that hurt?"

"...Yes."

"Well, I can already feel that your system is slightly overheated, and based on your reaction I believe it's safe to say your gyroscope is in fact malfunctioning."

"Do you know the cause?" Connor watched as Joel wheeled a metal cart over to the exam table and began sifting through the various pieces of equipment used exclusively to examine android physiology.

"I have an idea." The astute technician admitted as he took a flexible plastimetal band and wrapped it around Connor's wrist.

The band was a wearable external thermometer that gave the technician realtime accuracy of Connor's core temperature without having to be invasive. The device showed a digital display of Connor's core temperature and as expected it was slightly elevated up to one-hundred and one point four degrees Fahrenheit; which in a human would be considered a fever.

As the device served its purpose Joel made a mental note of the reading. "You're not the first android I've seen today exhibiting these particular symptoms. Actually, you're the _second_ today, and the fourth this week."

"Other androids in the precinct are malfunctioning?" Another weak cough briefly interrupted Connor's train of thought. "Is it the result of a virus affecting our software?"

"Something like that." Unbuttoning Connor's shirt over his abdomen Joel placed a wedge shaped plastimetal gauge down against his abdomen, which in turn caused Connor flinch and jump a little. "Sorry." Joel held up the electronic screen connected to the gauge as he used it to examine Connor's gyroscope. The wedge created a type of sonar wave that allowed the technician to see the gyroscope's exact position in his abdomen as well as the rate in which it was functioning. "Well, your gyroscope itself isn't damaged but it is in need of recalibrations. It's currently being affected by your overheating core."

"Why am I-" Connor coughed again and put his hand over his mouth as he had seen humans do out of politeness and to stop the spread of their germs. Germs weren't an issue for Connor, but manners were. "...Why am I overheating?"

"I don't like the way that cough sounds."

"It hasn't affected my ventilation biocomponents."

" _Yet_." Joel cautioned as he made a move for his audioscope on the nearby table of instruments. "I'm going to listen to your chest to check on that cough. Be silent for a moment, please."

Lightly the technician moved Connor's tie to the right as he slipped the ear buds of his audioscope into place to listen to the deviant's breathing. Placing the bell down on the central left portion of Connor's chest Joel listened to the sound of Connor's Thirium pump; his heart, and ventilation biocomponents, his lungs, and carefully as he ran the bell from left to right and back again.

"Your Thirium pump is functioning normally, but there is audible faltering in your ventilation biocomponents."

"...Is it serious?"

"Any anomaly can be serious," removing the audioscope from his ears Joel noted Connor's temperature rising slightly to one-hundred and one point eight degrees. "but in this case I don't think it's anything _dangerous_."

"Do you know what's wrong with me, as well as the other affected deviants?"

"Yes. It is in fact the result of a software virus: it's called 'Groupware Blight v1." Crossing his arms Joel gave the deviant android a somewhat bemused smirk as he gave his diagnosis. "You, my friend, are suffering from a condition known as gyroscopic impairment, complicated by mild ventilation profusion and an enervated thermal regulator; more commonly known as the 'android-flu'."

"The... _flu_?" Connor's brow furrowed with utmost confusion, and his L.E.D. briefly flashed red before returning to yellow. "Influenza is a _human_ ailment."

"Right, that's why I said you have the _android_ -flu, not just _the_ flu."

"Oh." Covering his mouth again Connor caught another cough and cleared his throat. "What causes it?"

"Well, during the colder season android biocomponents and Thirium lines become affected by the drastic change in temperature." Joel motioned to the window over his shoulder where the dark gray cloudy sky threatened to unleash another late season snowstorm at any moment. "And when the change is very abrupt or inconsistent rather than gradual the thermal regulator becomes exhausted while attempting to compensate for the rapid fluctuations. Anatomically your thermal regulator is right next to your gyroscope and artificial stomach, and being overburdened by wild temperature fluctuations had in turn affected your gyroscope as the regulator itself began to overheat. That's why you have pain in your stomach."

"And the cough?"

"Your ventilation biocomponents have been attempting to compensate for the overexerted thermal regulator, and they are collecting an influx of excessive Thirium as your system tries to boost the power to the biocomponents as you heal."

Connor put a hand to his head as if the very admission to being ill somehow made him feel even worse. "...How did I get this?"

"Like humans do." Joel reiterated with a devilish smirk. "You came into contact with another android whose software had been affected by the abnormal biocomponent reactions. Your system attempted to register the activity of the affected android's system, and attempted to synchronize your programing with theirs for easy cybernetic communication. Unfortunately, that meant your system became infected with their system abnormality as a result."

"What can I do to rid it of my system?" The confirmed ill deviant android asked rather somberly as Joel walked over to a refrigerated storage cabinet in the corner of his office. Connor put his hand over his mouth to catch another weak cough out of some unspoken courtesy to the technician as he awaited a reply. "I can't work like this."

"Well, like humans afflicted with this illness you need to rest." Returning to the exam table with a large transparent plastic bottle of bright green liquid Joel handed it to Connor to take for himself. "And you need to drink this over the course of the next three days. One tablespoon every six hours."

"What is it?" Connor attempted to scan the contents of the bottle but his system was too compromised by his condition to perform the necessary scan properly. The effort also made his head hurt from the effort. "...I cannot properly identify it with my scanner."

"It's a type of coolant that'll mix with your Thirium and aid your thermal regulator in keeping your system from overheating. This is all necessary while your regulator itself heals. Trust me, it'll make your recovery go a lot faster if you drink this."

"This is... medicine?"

"Essentially, yes." Joel reclaimed the bottle for a moment and opened the lid before handing it back to Connor. "And I want you to take your first dose here, where I can see it."

"See it?"

"I want to make sure you don't have a negative reaction."

"...That is a wise precaution."

Connor sat upright on the table with moderate difficulty as his abdomen was still sore from his overheated regulator and upset stomach. Joel's hand was pressed against his upper back to support the deviant android as he moved and took the offered bottle once again. Connor easily estimated the proper dose and drank it, but the taste was something so unexpectedly vile that Connor had to resist spitting it back out all over the floor.

"Sorry about that." Joel laughed a little as put the lid back on the bottle for Connor. The technician saw that Connor was almost curling around himself as if he were trying to resist a terrible ache emanating from the deepest pit of his core. "Are you going to be okay?"

"...It hurts my stomach."

"Uncommon side effect, but it'll pass. It's also not a _serious_ side effect just so you know."

"...I don't like it."

"It may taste horrendous but it does wonders. Without it you'd take anywhere from seven to ten days to recover. This will ensure you recover in three or four days. Take your pick;" he tempted with a sarcastic tone. "but do you really want to be sick for a longer period of time and unable to work?"

Shaking his head slightly Connor kept his hand on the bottle and accepted the former option. "I find the shorter recovery period to be preferable."

"Everyone does. Now," Joel pointed to the thermometer still wrapped around Connor's wrist. "keep that in place and go home. Be as still as possible and continue your normal rest cycle. If you spend too much time in rest mode it can disrupt your software's daily routine and you'll feel even worse before you have the chance to get better."

"I see." Straightening back up Connor replaced the buttons on his shirt and sighed, before replacing his tie. "My shift is over in three hours."

"Nope. Your shift is over _now_ , I'm sending a memo to Captain Fowler explaining that you're benched for four days."

"You said that I could recover in three days."

"Yeah, but there's no guarantee. Besides the extra day can give your systems more time to fully recover."

Connor carefully slid off the table and planted his feet on the floor as he kept one hand on the table for balance as he took the bottle of foul tasting medicine from Joel's hand to keep. "...Thank you, Joel."

"No problem. Go home, take it easy, keep that stuff refrigerated and drink one tablespoon every six hours. And then don't come back for four days. Seriously, Connor. You may be an android but that doesn't make you impervious to illness or injury."

Reluctantly Connor did as he was instructed and made his way back down to the ground floor to clock out for the evening. Clutching his hand around the bottle of 'medicine' Connor returned to the elevator and did his best to keep from falling over as another dizzy spell hit him and his stomach continued to ache with a strange tingling sensation.

"...Damn gyroscope." Connor grumbled to himself as the faulty biocomponent continued to affect his systems and make his already upset stomach feel worse.

Exiting the elevator and walking back down the corridor Connor noticed Hank casually sitting atop his desk with his arms crossed over his chest as if he had been waiting for him the entire time. The senior detective had a curious look in his eyes but didn't say anything until Connor approached him. "Find anything wrong, kid?"

"I... I have the flu." Connor admitted with a low voice as he showed Hank the green liquid in the bottle. "An _android_ -flu. I have been sidelined for the next four days. ...Can you drive me home so I can rest?"

"Wow, you _must_ be sick. You're not trying to find some weird loophole to finish your shift, or trying to convince Fowler you'll be okay."

"Did... Did you know that I was ill?"

"Fowler called me into his office a minute ago after Joel sent the message about your condition." Shrugging dismissively Hank continued on. "I just wanted to see what you'd do."

"I don't want to do anything." Connor was sounding more and more pathetic as he spoke. "...I just want to go home."

"Alright, kid." Hank showed the cars keys already in his hand to the sick deviant android he slid off the desk and motioned toward the front doors of the precinct. "Let's get you home."

Putting his hand on Connor's shoulder Hank helped guide the dizzy, tired deviant android away from the desks and through reception.

From his own desk Gavin had noticed that Connor and Hank were leaving, and more importantly he noticed that something was wrong with Connor and couldn't stop himself from shouting an unprovoked taunt at the deviant android's expense. "What happened to the toy-soldier? Crack under the pressure of pretending to be human?"

"Fuck off, Gavin." Hank yelled without missing a beat as he and Connor passed through the front doors of the precinct together. "Arrogant prick..."

Connor didn't react or respond to Gavin's insult in the slightest. Sluggishly he walked with Hank beside him and let the senior detective guide him to the neighboring parking garage to get to the car and get home at long last.

"Hey? You still with me?"

"...Where else would I be, Lieutenant?"

"I don't know if that was you being painfully honest, or a smartass." Hank noted as he unlocked the car doors and watched Connor pull open the front passenger door with a shaking hand. "Sit down and take it easy. You look terrible."

"...I look as I always do."

"Nah, you're looking pretty sick." The senior detective noted as he sat down behind the wheel and watched Connor slowly sit down in the passenger seat beside him. "You're not pale but your eyes are glazed over and you're walking like you have a ten-ton weight on your shoulders."

"Such a weight would be impossible to bear."

"Connor, shut up and don't puke on the floorboards." Turning over the engine Hank quickly reached out his hand and put his palm over Connor's forehead as an instinct paternal reaction to check for a fever. "You're warm."

"I am in fact overheating, yes."

"Need me to turn off the heater?"

"...No. You don't need to suffer discomfort on my account."

"Fuck, you act like me enduring a slight chill in the air is the same as a human sacrifice." Pulling the car out of the parking garage and onto the street Hank watched Connor from the corner of his eye as the deviant android closed his eyes, crossed his arms over his chest and remained perfectly still and quiet where he sat. "Just hang on for a few more minutes and I'll get you back to the house. You can pass out on the couch and spoil Sumo rotten."

The comment went without a response as the ill deviant android remained silent.

"Yup. You're sick."

Turning the block Hank idled at a red light and noticed that Connor lifted up his head seemed to be pressing his hand firmly to the middle of his stomach.

"You okay?"

"...I may end up puking on your floor mats. I'm sorry."

"Nope!"

Throwing the car into park Hank opened his door, waved off the angry driver's honking their horns behind him, and proceeded to walk around the other side of the car to open up the passenger side door. Grabbing onto Connor's arm Hank hauled the sick deviant android over to the nearby alleyway just as Connor's artificial stomach betrayed him. As a torrent of blueish green liquid escaped Connor's mouth Hank put one hand to the deviant android's forehead and his other hand against his back to try to support him.

Coughing a few more times Connor spit the foulness from his mouth and just stood in a stooped over position over his own puddle vomit.

"Shit. I don't think that green stuff will evaporate like Thirium."

"...Unknown."

"Thanks for the warning, kid. Are you going to be okay long enough to make it back to the house?"

Connor stood upright a little, his hand protectively pressed to his stomach as he gauged the sensitivity of his artificial stomach in the process. "...I think so."

"Come on." Patting Connor's shoulder Hank guided the ill deviant android back to the car and helped him to sit down in the passenger seat again. After watching Connor fumble with the seatbelt Hank pulled his badge from his pocket to flash to the still honking cars and warned them to shut up before returning to his seat behind the wheel. "We're almost there, kid. Just a little longer."

Once home Hank practically escorted Connor from the drive beside the house, through the front door over to the couch. The senior detective made the deviant android remove his shoes, tie, his jacket, white dress shirt beneath and his jeans. Giving Connor a thin black t-shirt and gray sweatpants to wear while he was ill instead. Hank insisted that it would make Connor feel more comfortable and the deviant android was willing to cooperate in the hopes he would soon feel better.

As Hank found the deviant android a thick pillow to rest his head against he also tossed an old navy blue blanket down at the the deviant android's feet where he was laying. "Just in case you feel cold."

Sumo sat beside the couch with his chin resting on Connor's arm as the affectionate dog kept vigil over his favorite android. The loyal and friendly Saint Bernard was very attuned to Connor's behavior and mannerisms just as he was with Hank.

Connor appeared more human than ever as he laid on his back, sick and miserable. After a few hours of listening to Connor weakly cough and watching the deviant android laying still in silent discomfort Hank acted on his long repressed fatherly instinct and set out trying make Connor feel better.

"You don't have to do this, Hank." Connor stated tiredly as the senior detective pulled the thick blue blanket up over his legs. His glassy brown eyes watched Hank walking around the couch almost hypnotically as he moved. "I don't require any special treatment."

"You do when you're sick." Hank argued as he pressed the back of his hand against Connor's forehead to check his temperature again. "Android-flu gives you an android-fever, too. What's your temperature?"

Connor lifted his arm up from under Sumo's chin to look at the thermometer still wrapped around his wrist. "My core temperature is at one hundred and two point one degrees Fahrenheit. Also, I'm overheating, not feverish."

"It's higher than before, right?"

"...Yes. But I'm still coherent and-."

"Yeah, and I'm still lucid. You're sick and you're being stubborn, Connor." Stepping away from the couch Hank entered to the kitchen to gather a few things for the stubborn deviant android's recovery. "Since you can't sweat to cool off I'm getting you some ice. I don't want your brain to melt." As Hank pulled a thin ice bag from the freezer he opened the fridge and picked up the bottle of green liquid medication and read the label on its side. "You need this stuff every six hours, right?"

Connor outwardly grimaced at the notion of having to taste that repugnant medicine again but answered honestly all the same. "...Correct."

Hank returned to the couch and pressed the provided ice bag against Connor's forehead gently and offered the bottle of medicine to the sick deviant android to drink. "Here." He then placed an empty mop bucket down on the floor beside the couch in the event Connor threw-up again after taking the medicine. "Just in case, you know."

"It's possible that I can recover without the aid of that medication." Connor quickly stated as he refused to take the offered bottle and watched the reaction on Hank's face. "It would just take a day or two longer to fully recover."

"Uh-huh, and why would you willingly let yourself be sick for longer?" The senior detective and father knew that Connor was trying to avoid something. He was going to figure it out fairly quickly, even if Connor thought he could outsmart him. "This is weird. Especially since you're a textbook 'workaholic'."

Connor tried to feign innocence but failed as his eyes fell to the bottle of medicine in Hank's hand and gave away his true intention. "I'd just prefer to allow my systems to heal without secondary assistance."

"Bullshit." Hank pointed an accusing but non-aggressive finger at the sick deviant android. "You just don't like the way this stuff tastes. I can see it in your eyes, kid."

"I don't have any taste preference-"

"Then drink it." Hank impatiently pushed the bottle closer to Connor's face, but the deviant android turned his face away with a thick grimace. "I knew it. You're as bad as a little kid, you know that?"

"...It hurts my stomach, Hank." Connor confessed as he closed his eyes and let out a sigh as he coughed a few times. "And I don't like being in pain."

"No one does, Connor." That last comment struck a chord with Hank and it softened his voice. "You need it, son. You're going to get a whole lot worse before you get better if you don't drink this stuff."

Connor opened his eyes again and stared at the questionable liquid Hank's hand.

"Think of it this way, the sooner you're better the sooner you won't have to drink this stuff anymore." Hank opened the lid of the bottle and curiously smelled the contents within. "Jeez, this shit smells like pure antifreeze! No wonder you can't stand the taste."

Slowly Connor reached a shaking hand up to the bottle and took it from Hank's outstretched hand with a reluctant grip. Closing his eyes Connor took his next dose of medicine and forced himself to swallow the potent liquid, and again resisted every urge to spit it out. Connor almost immediately tightened an arm around his abdomen as the vile medication had a massively negative effect on his artificial stomach.

"That bad, huh?" Hank almost laughed as he took the bottle back from Connor and replaced the lid for him.

"...Awful." Connor sighed pathetically as he sank down against the thick pillow as much as possible, his arm slowly letting go of his stomach as he relaxed a little. "...I can still taste it."

"Sorry. I don't know how to help you cope with a bad taste."

"It's okay, Hank. It's not your fault."

"Hey, you'll pull through this and be back to normal in a few days. Just be patient."

"I know. I'll try." The exhausted deviant android looked at Hank through partially opened eyelids. "I'd like to repay you for your kindness, Hank."

"Don't worry about it, that's what friends do." The senior detective shrugged his shoulders casually as returned the medication to the fridge in the kitchen for proper storage. "Besides, in the next few months when I end up being sick with the flu, and I do every fuckin' year, you can make sure I take whatever nasty medication the doctor prescribes me. Deal?"

Connor coughed weakly as he closed his eyes and tried to ignore the lingering foul taste in his mouth as he initiated a light rest mode.

"Do you need anything else? More ice? Another pillow?" Hank patted the side of the couch as he returned to the livingroom to lure Sumo into resting his head down next to Connor's arm again to try to comfort the ill deviant android.

The cuddly Saint Bernard happily obliged and put his chin back down on Connor's arm and yawned sleepily as he prepared to nap along with Connor.

"I'd just like to be left alone for now. Please."

"Sure, no problem." Hank took his leave and turned off the lights in the livingroom and kitchen in the process before he walked down the hallway to go take a refreshing shower. "Feel better soon, son."

* * *

As if on autopilot Hank consistently checked on Connor's fever just like he used to do whenever Cole had gotten sick. Using the thermal wrap on Connor's wrist as a guide, as well as his own hand lightly pressing down against the deviant android's forehead, Hank kept tabs on his temperature and only disturbed him whenever he needed to take his medicine.

"Connor?"

The deviant android's brown eyes opened slowly and his L.E.D. blinked from sickly yellow to blue briefly as he recognized Hank's voice, but soon settled back to yellow.

"Medicine."

"...Already?"

"You were asleep for six hours, so yeah." Holding out the bottle of medicine for Connor to take Hank sat down on the coffee table next to the couch. "Already."

Lifting his head a little Connor was pleased to discover that no dizzy spell accompanied him as he moved, and saw that according the thermal wrap on his wrist his temperature was starting to slowly drop. "I believe I'm beginning to recover."

"Good. But you still have to drink this shit."

"...I'm aware."

"Sorry, kid. Maybe you can convince Joel to make it taste differently in case you get sick again in the future."

Connor didn't say anything as he took a third dose of the medicine and closed his eyes as the loathsome taste filled his mouth. Forcing himself to swallow the vile substance Connor shook his head a little as he handed the medicine back to Hank. "I don't know what a preferable taste to this could be."

"I'm no expert, but I think anything _but_ antifreeze would be preferable."

"...You may be correct. I really wouldn't know."

"Now, stay awake."

"But I am tired."

"Hey, I read that memo that Joel sent to Fowler and it said for you to NOT go against your normal rest mode cycles. I let you sleep because you were exhausted, but now that you're getting better I want you to stay awake for me."

"And what am I to do if I cannot sleep? I am not cleared to work and my processors won't allow me to cybernetically work on cases."

"Holy shit, kid, no wonder you got sick! Look, just do what humans do when they get sick, alright?" Standing up from the coffee table Hank pet Sumo's head as he walked over to the neighboring recliner and sat down heavily. "No more thinking about work or cases. Don't think about anything."

"What should I do then?"

"Read a book or watch a movie. That's what I usually do when I'm sick."

"A movie?" Connor asked somewhat confusedly as he slowly sat upright on the couch and turned so his legs were hanging off the edge of the furniture to rest his feet firmly on the floor like normal. Sumo proceeded to rest his chin over Connor's lap and wagged his tail when Connor placed his hand atop Sumo's head as a result, and began to rub his ears gently. "Do you have a recommendation?"

"Yeah, I got one." Using the television remote Hank turned on the television and scoured through his list of digitally downloaded movies and selected a favorite that he was sure would hold Connor's attention: A detective movie from the 1980's called ' _The Untouchables_ '. "This is one of my favorites. You'll love it, too, kid."

"Why's that?"

"It's about detectives and history. Granted some of the history gets exaggerated or omitted, but that doesn't stop it from being a damn good story."

_**-The End** _


End file.
